The Unintentional Donor
by Karen11
Summary: Logan hitches a ride from someone with a secret agenda.
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Unintentional Donor

Author: Karen

E-Mail: 

Disclaimer: If I owned the rights to these characters the movies would be shag-a-thons, but sadly I don't.

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Logan hitches a ride from someone with a secret agenda.

**Prologue**

Marie D'Ancanto had arrived on Charles Xavier's doorstep a bedraggled runaway in search of a safe haven. The potential that had been hidden underneath the grime of life on the road soon blossomed into a stunning young woman. Despite the constraints of her mutation, she attracted a fair share of interested suitors, including Bobby, John, Remy, and Piotr. But, while others her age were exploring their sexuality, Marie was attempting to suppress hers. Most of her pursuers eventually moved on to other less challenging mates. Even Remy, who'd been the most ardent, finally abandoned his efforts to convince Marie he could find a way around her mutation and settled into the role of big brother.

When she turned eighteen Charles proposed what he believed was a mutually beneficial arrangement ~ marriage. Due to her mutation, she was unable to have a normal marriage in the truest sense of the word, and neither could Charles thanks to his paralysis. As a married woman, Marie would be protected from the unwanted advances of other men and in return Charles would have a companion. She adored Charles, even loved him really – although not in a passionate way. When he assured her that they would be married in 'name only' and nothing 'wifely' would be expected of her, Marie accepted. They were married in a simple ceremony in Ororo's rose garden and honeymooned in Tahiti.

A year after they wed, Charles broached the subject of children. He told Marie that he'd like to have an heir, not only to one day inherit his vast fortune, but also to continue his family's lineage. Watching other couples around them start families had Marie yearning for a child of her own, so his suggestion was not met with the rejection he'd feared. However, she was concerned about passing on her mutation – until Hank informed them that his research indicated the mutant gene was conveyed via males. Several attempts were made to artificially inseminate Marie, with each one failing. As the months wore on she channeled her frustration into something a bit more positive – control of her mutation.

Six months into the endeavor two significant things happened. First, Marie finally mastered the ability to turn off her mutation on command. Second, during a routine check, Charles' sperm-count test came back considerably under the acceptable fertility level. It was unlikely he'd ever father any children. Marie was devastated. With her skin no longer a deterrent to having a 'normal' life, she still couldn't bring herself to callously abandon the man who'd been so good to her. A baby would've relieved some of the strain of being ensnared in an unconventional relationship, and apparently now that wasn't going to happen. Even playing surrogate mother to the school's children was not quite the same as having one that was a part of her.

Hank suggested that Marie use a sperm donor, but having once queried Charles about the possibility of adopting, she knew he wanted a biological child. Marie asked Hank not to reveal the test results to Charles and simply forge ahead with the existing program. After all, she told him, from what she'd learned in biology class, it only took one sperm. Maybe she and Charles would get their miracle, yet.

After vanquishing most of his opponents in the cage, letting them get in just enough hard hits to allay any suspicions about his advantage, Logan collected his winnings and headed out of the bar. He was surprised to find his truck had been the victim of a 'stripping' – everything of value, which wasn't a whole lot, had been swiped – including the rusty old motorcycle in the attached trailer. The hood had been left up and a quick check revealed an empty space where the battery was supposed to be. Logan hadn't bothered locking the truck, figuring no one was desperate enough to steal any of his thrift store belongings. Checking in the cab, he found the eight-track tape deck hadn't been pried from the dashboard. Apparently even thieves had their standards. They had taken the bag of beef jerky and his last Cuban cigar from the glove compartment though. Bastards.

Instinctively he sniffed the air, not that he was expecting to identify anyone specifically. He caught the scent of two distinct intruders – one who favored a spicy cologne and the other whose natural scent suggested he could benefit from a similar application. As the camper always had a ransacked look, it took him a few moments to realize that the only clothes left was the heap of dirty laundry in the far corner. He gathered the small pile, and because his one decent duffel bag was also gone, he shoved the clothes into a plastic grocery bag. Exiting the camper he purposely locked it – if by chance the thieves returned because they'd decided they wanted the eight-track tape player after all, they'd have to work for it. With a resigned sigh, he zipped up his leather jacket, hefted the makeshift suitcase over his shoulder and started in the direction of the main highway in search of a motel.

A gust of cold wind hit Logan's face and despite the leather jacket, the denim one beneath it, and two more layers, consisting of a plaid shirt and a white t-shirt, he still shivered against the biting chill of the October night. For a moment he regretted not going home with the cheap-looking blonde in the push-up bra who'd been hitting on him all evening. A quick obligatory fuck and he could've been tucked all nice and cozy in a warm bed right now. Then remembering the way her designer knock-off perfume had overwhelmed his senses and the fact that she was probably nearer to fifty than the thirty she was aiming for, he knew he'd made the right decision. He continued heading north against an increasingly stronger headwind, kicking the occasional rock onto the asphalt of the road – the lights of the motels ahead twinkling teasingly. He estimated that he was still about two miles away from a much-needed hot shower. Ducking his head against the wind, he started to pick up the pace when the heavens opened up and proceeded to drench him.

A few soggy minutes later a black Jaguar pulled to the side of the road just ahead of him. The passenger-side window was lowered as he approached the car. Peering in he saw a beautiful young woman who shouldn't have been unaccompanied at night, let alone giving rides to potentially dangerous strangers.

"Get in, I won't bite," she said.

He opened the door and dropped his wet backside onto the expensive caramel-colored leather seat. The car's heater was set on low – just enough to warm the interior without making it stiflingly hot. Logan was grateful as the welcoming heat enveloped him and began dissipating the chill.

"Aren't you afraid I might?" he asked with a grin and a lift of one eyebrow.

"I can take care of myself," she replied confidently.

Logan's eyes slid over her petite frame and somehow he didn't believe her declaration.

"I'm Logan," he informed her.

"Marie."

**Chapter One – The Plan: Part A**

In the less than two-mile drive to the row of motels, the storm had picked up ferocity – visibility was virtually non-existent – making driving any further out of the question. Logan's Good Samaritan was going to have to wait out the storm at the motel. They made a mad dash into the small office, the wind sweeping in a pile of leaves along with them. The young clerk behind the counter was engrossed in what appeared to be 'adult entertainment' and Marie had to clear her throat rather loudly to get his attention. He turned an acne-covered face toward the noise, annoyed at having his show interrupted, and glared at her.

"You wanna room?" the boy idiotically asked.

"Nah, we thought we'd go at it right here in the lobby and give you a real show," Logan replied.

At that comment, the clerk looked Marie up and down and smiled lecherously. Logan had to restrain himself from leaping over the counter and gutting the little pervert.

"You wanna put your eyes back in your head and quit looking at my wife like that," he said, his voice edged with menace.

At the mention of 'wife', Marie turned to Logan and gave him a quizzical look. He just gave her a playful wink, which made her blush and smile coyly.

The curvy brunette was the best looking thing that had wandered in here in months, but it wasn't worth getting pounded by a jealous husband. The suddenly repentant clerk tossed a key at Logan and said, "Look, mister, I don't want any trouble, okay?"

Logan snatched the key in mid-air and slammed a couple of twenties down onto the counter.

"This about cover it?"

The room was $39.95 plus tax, but the clerk wasn't about to ask Logan for another few bucks, so he just nodded affirmatively. He hoped this dangerous-looking guy was in too much of a hurry to get the brunette in the sack to bother causing any trouble.

With a final glare at the hapless kid, Logan turned toward the door.

"Coming, darlin'?"

Marie wordlessly followed Logan back outside. As they walked to their assigned room he said, "Sorry about that, but I didn't like the way he was leering at you."

"I always thought knights wore shining armor, not beat-up leather," she said with a grin.

"I ain't no knight," he informed her, "or a Boy Scout."

"I'm not looking for a Boy Scout," she replied in a trying-to-be-bold tone.

Even though a myriad of aromas had been stirred up by the storm, Logan could smell the nervousness coming off of her in waves.

"So what do you want?" he asked, stopping in front of room #5.

"I want," Marie began, her anxiety had kicked up a couple of notches, but she forged ahead – blurting out, "I want you to fuck me." Even in the dim light from the bare bulb above their heads, Logan could see that she was flushed pink with embarrassment.

"You only gave me a two-mile ride and I paid for the room," he said in amusement.

Marie's pretty little mouth formed an astonished 'O' and he couldn't resist the urge to put his tongue into it. He gathered her to him and lowered his mouth to hers. She put up no resistance and in fact he felt her knees give out as the kiss deepened. By the time he released her she was literally dizzy.

"You grow up in a convent or somethin'?" he asked.

"Huh?" Was all Marie could answer – thoroughly confused.

"You want me to fuck you, when apparently you've never even been kissed … properly."

"Oh, that," she sighed. Life as Charles' wife was tantamount to living in a nunnery – he'd only chastely kissed her on the cheek, never attempting anything more carnal.

"Yeah, that. You been cloistered away somewhere?"

"In a way," she replied sadly.

"Listen, princess, I don't screw little girls aiming to get their cherries popped just to piss-off their uptight, pompous socialite daddies," Logan informed her.

"I'm not a little girl," Marie huffed in indignation, "and my father is dead." Technically that wasn't true. The man was still very much alive, so was her mother, but for all intents and purposes the parents who'd kicked her out when her mutation had manifested were dead to her. Nearly four years later she was still bitter and unforgiving. Neither of them had better ever darken her doorstep or she'd give them a firsthand demonstration of her devil-inflicted curse.

"Whatever you say, princess," Logan said as he unlocked the door and pushed it open.

"Don't call me that," Marie said as she swept past him into the room.

Logan flipped on the wall switch and the room was bathed in a pale yellow-tinted light.

"Yuck," Marie declared at the sight of the no-frills room.

"Let me guess, you've never stayed anywhere less than five stars?" Logan asked as he lifted his boot and brought it down on a roach that had ventured out from beneath the dresser.

"Ugh. I'm gonna need to be doused in sanitizer when I get home," she said as she gingerly placed her Chanel handbag on the antiquated dresser.

"And where would that be?" he asked as he removed both of his jackets and tossed them on the room's lone chair.

"Our Lady of Perpetual Virginity Convent, of course," Marie replied saucily as she removed her black trench coat and laid it on top of Logan's discarded jackets.

Okay, so apparently she didn't wish to divulge any personal information. Logan could live with that. He figured she was one of those spoiled little rich girls that lived in a part of town he wouldn't be welcome to even drive through. Despite what he'd told her, he really didn't have a problem with letting himself be used sexually. At least she was young and not worn out – like so many of the bar hags he usually bedded, who thought the more make-up they troweled on, the better. He gave her a thorough once over and liked what he saw. Yup, there'd be no stretch marks or cellulite on this one.

Marie meanwhile was making her own assessment of Logan. She'd lucked out when she found him on the side of the road. Tall, broad-shouldered, undoubtedly muscular beneath that ugly plaid shirt and devastatingly handsome – not in the clean-cut way that Scott was, but in a rugged, untamed way. The probability that he was wild in bed made Marie shiver, both in anticipation and slight trepidation. She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should return to the mansion and convince Scott to help her with the 'plan'. Then deciding that Jean would never loan him out and not wanting anyone close to Charles to know what she intended to do, she focused on the man standing before her. The one currently sweeping heated hazel eyes over her body. The one with the prominent bulge in his jeans.

"Would you like a picture?"

"Only if you told me it was one from your Playboy pictorial," Logan said naughtily as he moved closer to her.

"You'd rather have a photo than the real thing?" Marie asked teasingly.

"Well, if I'm being given a choice…" he said as he reached for the top button of Marie's pale-pink cashmere sweater.

Another shiver ran through her as he undid the rest of the buttons and slid the sweater off her shoulders. Next he popped open the button of her designer jeans and pulled down the zipper. But instead of removing the jeans as she had expected, he put his hand down the front of them and fingered the top edge of her lace panties.

"Tell me again what it was you wanted," he whispered in her ear as he slipped his fingers underneath the delicate fabric and brushed them over the soft hair.

"I want you to make love to me," she replied, her voice breathy – hoping he'd notice the change in her choice of words.

"All night long, baby," he promised as his fingers found her clit and Marie experienced her first orgasm that wasn't self-induced.

Marie was still vibrating as Logan kneeled down, removed her sneakers and socks, then pulled down her jeans and helped her step out of them, leaving her in just a pink lacy bra and matching panties. She'd never shown so much skin in front of anyone since her mutation had manifested – having mastered control after sunbathing season had already passed. Standing back up, Logan made no effort to conceal his appraisal – raking his eyes over her from platinum-streaked top to polished toenails bottom. Under his appreciative gaze Marie felt somewhere between woefully embarrassed and immensely flattered.

Deciding to even things up a bit, she said, "That is one ugly shirt. I think you should take it off."

Logan removed the offensive plaid shirt and tossed it on the chair.

"Better?" he asked, spreading his arms apart and fighting the urge to smirk at Marie's disappointment in discovering he still had another layer on.

There was a momentary silence as she contemplated what to say next. Logan saved her the trouble.

"If you want me to get naked, just say so," he told her.

"So," she almost whispered, her throat suddenly cotton-dry.

Logan let out a throaty bark of a laugh as he peeled the white cotton t-shirt off and tossed it at her. Too busy staring at the exquisite physique before her, she failed to catch the shirt and it fluttered to the floor. Next he removed his boots and socks then winked mischievously as he undid his jeans. Marie swallowed hard as the lowering zipper revealed a tangle of dark hair. And then the faded denim was in a pile around his ankles and she forgot to breathe.

Logan stepped out of the denim pile and closed the gap between them. Then taking note of her reaction to his engorged dick he huskily informed her, "Don't worry, darlin', I'm gonna make you wet."

Marie felt her panties dampen. Mission accomplished.

Logan went to reach around Marie's back, effectively to remove her bra, and found the band was uninterrupted by a clasp.

"It fastens in the front," she offered helpfully.

"You do it. And gimme a little show," he said, his eyes so intensely hot that she thought they'd burn right through her.

He wanted her to do a striptease? Marie just stood there, chewing on her bottom lip, at a complete loss.

Logan immediately clued in that she had no idea what to do, so he reached for the clasp and unsnapped it himself. Her breasts spilled out and he palmed them.

"Perfect," he said as he stroked his thumbs over her nipples.

Marie shrugged out of the bra and let it drop to the floor.

"Panties next, darlin'."

She swallowed hard, hooked her thumbs into the band of her panties and began to wiggle out of them.

"You smell so damn good and I bet you taste even better," Logan said as he dropped to his knees, skimming his mouth down her body in the process and pulling her panties the rest of the way down.

Marie was trembling as she stepped out of the scrap of material. Logan nudged her legs apart then leaned forward and licked her. She put her hands on his shoulders to steady herself as he continued pleasuring her with his tongue.

"Oh God," she moaned out in a mixture of satisfaction and embarrassment as the orgasm washed over her.

Logan lifted her up and carried her over to the bed where he deposited her down gently. He spread her legs open and was on top of her instantly, pressing his erection at her entrance. Overcome with need by now and not wanting to give her an opportunity to change her mind and go running home, he slid in just enough to take it beyond the point of no return. He needn't have worried because she was keening beneath him and making very encouraging little noises. He eased in a little further and was rewarded with another breathy moan and a slight lift of her hips. With a low growl he pushed in the rest of the way.

"Oh, Logan," Marie whimpered.

He'd never heard his name said quite like that before and he almost came right then and there.

"Marie," he moaned right back as he sank his hands into her thick, silky hair and buried his face in the curve between her shoulder and her neck.

He peppered her soft skin with tender kisses before dusting a trail up to her mouth and claiming it hungrily. He'd never enjoyed kissing because, while he indulged in cigars and drank rotgut himself, he didn't enjoy tasting cigarettes and cheap alcohol on his bed partners. Marie tasted sweet and fresh, Logan doubted that she'd ever had anything foul in her delicate mouth. Overcome by an inexplicable urge to possess her, he kissed her with a fierce intensity. She responded to him as if she were a natural, although he suspected otherwise. Marie's hands were everywhere – inquisitively touching as much of him as she could comfortably reach and he shuddered under her exploratory caresses. She'd gone from sheltered innocent to wanton vixen in record-breaking time; he couldn't help but feel proud of that. He also wondered if he could convince her to abandon her no doubt privileged life for a gypsy-like existence on the road because he could easily imagine himself spending every night – and some mornings too – engaged in this activity with her.

They writhed together until they reached a completion that was mutually satisfying and then made love again…and then twice more. Finally, they fell asleep just before dawn wrapped in each other's arms.

Logan awoke and glanced at his watch – it was almost noon. He rolled over to check on his lover and discovered an empty space where a small warm body should've been. Well, technically not completely empty – there was a piece of paper lying there. He picked up the scrap of paper, knowing before he even read the first line that it was a 'Dear John' letter.

_**Logan,**_

_**What can I say? **_

"_Well, 'good bye' would've been a good idea,"_ Logan thought irritably as he continued to read.

_**Last night was amazing. **_

"_Of course it was, princess."_

_**And I thank you. **_

"_If you'd stuck around I could've told you 'you're welcome' Logan-style."_

_**Please don't try to find me. Trust me, it's better this way. **_

**Marie**

Logan crumbled the note into a wad and tossed it at the trashcan. That's when he noticed the pile of hundred dollar bills on the nightstand on what had been her side of the bed. He reached over and picked up the money – six hundred. Angrily he wondered if she'd compensated him for each orgasm he'd helped her attain or that had merely been a coincidence. Not that it really mattered, because regardless it still meant that she'd paid him for sex. Logan had only ever sold his body in the cage, which had never made him feel anywhere near as cheap as he did right now. He was sorely tempted to leave the money behind on the rapidly cooling sheets for the housekeeper to benefit from, but reason overcame pride so he retrieved his wallet from his nightstand and shoved the money into it because, after all, he'd earned it.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter TwoThree years later ~

Scott touched the Blackbird down in a forest clearing a mile from their objective. He'd had misgivings about this plan and vocalized it to Charles, who was determined to add this mutant to the faculty and team. Scott was never in favor of bringing a relatively unknown quantity into their midst and Charles knew that the man he and Kitty were instructed to retrieve was a loose canon at best and feral at worst. His _hit first and, if the person survived, ask questions later_ approach and reputation for leaving his enemies in more pieces than nature intended had Scott rightfully apprehensive. Jean had expressed her concern that his fragmented mind could make controlling him - should the need ever arise – difficult, if not impossible. Charles assured them he respected their opinions and that he'd taken their concerns under advisement, but he was confident he could contain him if it ever became necessary. He believed it would be better to have him fighting alongside the X-Men than against them as a member of the Brotherhood, so recruiting him before Magneto had gotten the opportunity had been paramount. Jean hoped for everyone's sake they weren't making a huge mistake, but she trusted her mentor's judgment and had supported his decision.

Scott and Kitty quickly trekked the short distance to the motel. He thought bringing her along on this pick-up was yet another mistake, but Charles felt the young woman's presence would entice the new recruit to behave himself. He tried to shake off the ominous image of him lying on the floor of the motel room gutted while the Wolverine raped his young teammate.

Standing in front of the door to Wolverine's room, Scott shoved Kitty behind him before raising his leather-gloved hand to knock.

Moments later the door swung open to reveal the man, whose dossier Scott knew backwards and forwards, wrapped in a small white towel.

"What are you, a Boy Scout with delusions of grandeur?" he asked mockingly.

There was a small giggle from behind Scott's back and Logan stretched to see who'd made it. Kitty stuck her head out from behind her team leader and gasped at the sight of the muscular, half-naked man.

The Wolverine's expression changed from provocation to leering as he said, "I didn't realize room service was so kinky. I don't remember ordering you, darlin'."

"She's not on the menu," Scott snapped as he shoved his way past Logan and entered the room, even though he wanted to head back to the jet and forget about this asshole.

"Professor Charles Xavier sent us," Kitty explained unnecessarily, "I'm Shadowcat and this is Cyclops."

"What are you, my signing bonus?" Logan asked without shame as he ran his eyes up and down the pretty brunette's body.

"Let's get one thing straight, Wolverine, none of the women at the Institute are yours for the taking. Are we perfectly clear on that?" Scott huffed.

"Territorial, isn't he?" Logan addressed Kitty with a wink.

Oh yeah, this was going really well, Scott thought. The Wolverine was obviously aptly named and they were about to deliver him into a meadow full of sheep. Scott had the urge to kick something – preferably the Professor's ass for coming up with this hare-brained scheme.

"Let's get on with this," Scott said exasperatedly.

"Fine. Just gimme a minute to change," Logan said, then suggested, "Why don't you take that time to remove the stick from your ass."

Logan dropped the towel and Scott's hand immediately clamped over Kitty's eyes. She reached up to pull his hand away, but he wasn't about to let her see any more of the Wolverine than she'd already witnessed.

Foregoing underwear, Logan shimmied into a pair of faded jeans and only when the zipper was safely all the way to the top did Scott finally release his grip on Kitty. A shucked on black t-shirt effectively ended the peep show and Kitty let out a sigh of disappointment.

"Pull a stunt like that when we get back to the mansion and you'll find yourself blasted into the southern hemisphere," Scott threatened.

Logan merely shrugged, not intimidated one iota and Scott fumed.

Putting on a denim jacket, picking up a battered-looking duffle bag and slinging it over his shoulder, Logan said, "Shall we hit the road?"

I'd like to hit something all right,Scott thought as he ushered Kitty out of the room ahead of him – keeping himself between her and Wolverine.

Somehow they managed to make it back to the jet without further incident. Logan wheeled his Harley up the ramp and secured it in the designated cargo area. Scott let out an irritated huff as the bike proceeded to drip something oily onto the pristine deck.

"Needs some work," Logan explained.

"Ya think?" Scott replied before turning on his heels and heading to the cockpit.

Unlike the journey to the motel, Kitty didn't ride up front next to Scott but chose to sit in the back in the seat next to Logan.

The jet lifted off the ground, swaying slightly from the headwind buffeting them from the north. Hearing Logan's "Whoa!" Scott realized that the man was not a 'good flyer' and spitefully hoped for heavy turbulence. Glancing over his shoulder he was annoyed to see that Kitty had reached over and placed her hand reassuringly over Logan's. What was it with women and their persistence in trying to tame wild animals? If the Wolverine played that hand at the Institute – well, Scott shuddered to think about the ramifications of that scenario. It wasn't that he was jealous of the man's potential to bed any female he targeted, because Scott had Jean and they were happy. No, he was merely being protective of the women he'd come to regard as sisters and Wolverine spelled trouble with a capital 'T'.

Meanwhile, in the back of the jet Logan and Kitty were engaged in whispered conversation, which Scott strained to hear. If the jet had had a rear-view mirror he would've been able to keep his eye on things surreptitiously, but as he was loathe to give Logan the satisfaction of craning his neck around a bit more obviously, he settled for whatever snatches of conversation he could pick up.

"So, what has the Professor hired you to teach?" Kitty inquired curiously, because this guy looked like he'd graduated from the school of hard knocks and not some prestigious Ivy League university like the other teachers who comprised the Institute's faculty.

"Sex Ed," Logan replied with a lift of one eyebrow, "You're gonna love the homework," he added with a wink.

Kitty fetchingly blushed from head to toe and squirmed in her seat as her panties dampened. She hadn't been this turned on since her last one-on-one session in the Danger Room with Scott. Logan immediately caught the scent of arousal and smirked. Maybe this job offer wasn't going to be as lame as he'd originally anticipated.

Miraculously they made it back to Westchester despite Scott's urge to slam the jet into the Appalachian Mountains. Disembarking, the threesome made their way up to the main foyer where Charles and Jean were waiting to greet them.

Charles didn't need to be telepathic to sense the waves of frustration emanating from Scott and he issued a mental reassuring, _"We'll talk in just a moment. I promise."_

Scott's reddened face began to return to a more normal shade and Charles turned his attention to their guest.

"Welcome to Westchester. This is Jean Grey and I'm Charles Xavier," he said extending his hand, which Logan rudely ignored.

Taking in the elegant surroundings, Logan noted, "Nice set up. I think I ripped myself off when I negotiated my salary."

Jean glared at Logan – insulted on Charles' behalf that this man could be so impertinent. Scott smiled at the idea that Logan had immediately inserted his foot in his mouth, thus making it unnecessary to convince Jean to side with him regarding the situation. Or worry that she too would fall under the man's sexual spell.

"You're free to leave, if you think you've been gypped," Charles said calmly, knowing that a lucrative salary was not a top priority for the man standing before him. His network of contacts and the information they could possibly provide concerning Wolverine's past had been the deal-clinching incentive. The imposing man, who was now pacing like a caged animal, wasn't going anywhere and they both knew it.

Logan pulled a cigar stub and disposable lighter from the pocket of his denim jacket, jammed the stub in his mouth, bent his head down and was just about to ignite the tip when a soft voice informed him, "Please don't do that, this is a non-smoking house."

He looked up to see a ghost from his past. The owner of the voice had her own shocked reaction. The dossier she'd read listed his name as Wolverine, so she never would've made the connection that the man Charles had hired and her one-night stand were one and the same.

While it appeared that Charles may not have caught either of their reactions, Scott certainly did and his eyebrows knitted together in puzzlement.

"Ah, Rogue, meet our new recruit – Wolverine," Charles gestured.

"Logan," he offered as he extended his hand this time.

Marie held up her hand, hoping nobody would notice it was shaking slightly.

"Rogue," she said as his hand closed around hers, "Xavier."

Logan turned to reassess the man he assumed was Marie's father.

"My wife," Charles clarified.

Logan's head whipped back to Marie, who looked like she'd rather be anywhere than in the presence of two powerful telepaths.

"Your wife?" Logan queried, and then reading the worried look in Marie's eyes, added, "Well, good for you – you old perv."

Kitty tried to muffle a snicker and failed. Noticing Scott's agitation had resurfaced; she quickly excused herself because she really didn't want to be called as a witness at his trial for murdering Wolverine.

Charles, meanwhile, ignored Logan's comment as he was used to unfavorable reactions to the revelation that Marie was his wife and not his daughter. Although most people weren't as disrespectful. At least not to his face.

"Scott and Jean, I'd like to see you both in my office," Charles told his senior staff members, then addressing his wife he said, "Rogue, please show Logan to his room in the teacher's wing."

It was too bad that Kitty had already left or Marie would've fobbed the task off on her.

"Of course, Charles," she replied obediently and turned toward the staircase, "This way … Logan."

Logan bounded after her like a happy puppy, a gesture that may have escaped Charles but not Scott. He dismissed it simply as Wolverine's apparent penchant for anything with a double X chromosome and followed Charles and Jean down the hall to the Professor's office.

Once Logan felt they were safely out of earshot, he reached forward and wrapped his hand around Marie's wrist.

"Don't I get a 'hello' kiss?"

Marie turned to face him and gave him her best 'I have no idea what you're talking about' look. Logan wasn't fooled for a minute.

"Oh, Logan," Logan mimicked erotically.

She flushed the shade of pale pink that he so vividly remembered.

"Shush," she warned, as she looked around her, checking to make sure they were alone.

Thankfully his assigned room was the first door on the right and she practically dragged him into it and slammed the door shut behind them.

"Damn, I guess you're in more of a hurry for this reunion than I anticipated," Logan said mischievously as he shucked the denim jacket and moved to peel off his t-shirt.

"Are you crazy?" she shot at him.

"No, actually I'm pissed off at you," he snapped, "I wake up to a fuckin' note and payment for services rendered."

"I had to leave … before I was tempted to stay," she admitted, "I'm sorry about the note."

He had no idea how close she'd come to ditching her life at the mansion for him – so immediate flight had been necessary.

"And the money? Do you know how cheap that made me feel? Trust me, I have very little pride to hurt, but that was low. I know you picked me up off the street, but it wasn't like I was leaning up against a lamppost on the corner."

Marie's eyes went wide as she realized the implication of her gesture. "You were hitchhiking and your stuff was shoved in a plastic grocery bag. I thought you could use the help, so I left all the cash I had on me. It was never intended as an insult," she said genuinely apologetically.

So, she hadn't reduced their lovemaking to something cheap, she'd just been trying to help someone she thought was in trouble. Logan had borne that hurt for three years – apparently for nothing it seemed.

"Oh, baby," he said as he gathered her to him. Lowering his head he claimed her mouth in a tender kiss that soon turned passionate.

When they finally broke apart Marie had a look that made Logan think she hadn't had that kind of physical contact since their previous time together. He surprised himself by not being crass enough to ask her how long it had been since she'd been laid.

"Charles and I can't have that kind of relationship – so yes, it's been a while," she said as if she'd read his mind.

"Are you a telepath?"

"No, telepathy is Charles and Jean's specialty," she answered, then added, "I could tell from the look on your face that you were itching to ask me."

"There's been no one since me?" he asked hopefully, not wanting to contemplate the possibility of her writhing beneath a virile young lover.

"Not quite that long. About a year ago Scott and Jean were separated and …" she stopped herself, but it was too late, Logan had gotten the gist.

"So, you're bi-sexual?" he inquired – not knowing if he wanted her to answer 'yes' because the thought excited him or that it would mean it hadn't been Cyclops that she'd slept with.

"I don't bat for my own team, if that answers your question," she stated.

Damn, it had been the Boy Scout.

Marie saw Logan's deflated look and found it necessary to explain, "It was only the one time."

"How'd you manage that with two telepaths around?" His curiosity was piqued.

"We were on an overnight mission."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"That's rather personal," Marie huffed.

"I've had my face between your legs, I'd say that was more way more personal," he reminded her.

Her perfect mouth dropped open the same way it had done on that gusty October night and she suddenly looked every inch the innocent she'd been at that moment.

"I'm sorry. I don't have a whole lotta experience with classy broads… I'm mean, ladies – so I can be crude. Just so you know," he ended with a smile he hoped was adorable enough for her to forgive him.

The smile she returned told him it had worked and he was indeed forgiven.

"Storm's pushing for an etiquette class to be added to the curriculum. You could sign up. Just a thought," Marie said with a dimpled grin.

"I'm too old to be a schoolboy. On the other hand, I bet I could teach you a thing or two," he said and before she had a chance to react he pulled her against him and captured her mouth for another searing kiss.

A more-than-friendly hug would be difficult enough to explain, but a kiss – that would've been impossible. Lost in the heat of the kiss, Marie wasn't thinking about the dangerous situation she'd placed herself in with this man. It wasn't until he'd backed them up to the bed and was about to lower her down onto it that she finally came out of the lust-induced fog that had swirled itself around her.

"NO!" she cried out and gave him a firm shove.

The next thing Logan knew she'd fled his room, leaving him standing there bewildered and more aroused than he'd been in a long time. Looking down at the bulge in his jeans he realized he'd have to take a cold shower before he would be fit to be seen in polite company. He just prayed he didn't get an erection every time he was around the delectable Mrs. Xavier or his career as a teacher-by-day/superhero-by-night would be short-lived – with Cyclops the one delivering the boot to his ass. Maybe the cute little brunette who called herself Shadowcat could keep him occupied enough to stay out of trouble.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

When thirty minutes standing under a bitingly cold shower did nothing to ease his painful erection, Logan resorted to masturbating to relieve himself. Memories of his one night with Marie segued into fantasies of future encounters with her. With a shudder that he felt all the way down to his toes, he finally found release.

After he unpacked his belongings, which didn't take long – not having accumulated that much more since the time his things had conveniently fit into one plastic grocery bag – he decided to go in search of Kitty. He needed to find out if she was in a relationship and if so, how easy it would be to bust it up – or at least get her to agree to some extra-curricular activities. Of course the redhead that Xavier had introduced as Jean was pretty tempting, but she had the scent of the Boy Scout all over her and that guy already spelled all kinds of trouble for Logan – no need to add another reason for him to get all over his case at every opportunity. No, the slender brunette would do just fine until he'd figured out a way to insinuate himself back into Marie's life.

Stepping out into the hall Logan felt something hit his right leg. He looked down and saw a small body now on its butt.

"Sorry about that, little bub," Logan said as he reached down to lift the child back onto his feet.

A head topped with a mop of unruly hair shifted to look up at who was assisting him and Logan found himself staring into eyes the exact same shade of hazel as the ones that reflected back at him every time he looked in the mirror.

"Chance!"

A matronly woman came huffing up to the man and child regarding each other with awe.

"I just can't keep up with him ever since he went from toddling to full-out running," she wheezed. She really was getting too old to try and keep up with a child that had enough frantic energy to power a small town.

"Mrs. Anderson," a voice called out from around the corner and then Marie came into view. She faltered when she saw whom Mrs. Anderson and Chance had encountered.

Approaching the trio, Marie wanted to dismiss Chance's nanny before Logan's inevitable question.

"Thank you, Mrs. Anderson. I'll take it from here."

For someone who looked as if she was out of steam mere moments ago, Mrs. Anderson regained her strength in record time and took off before Mrs. Xavier changed her mind and she'd have to bathe Chance after all.

Luckily for Marie, the nanny was well out of hearing range before Logan finally found his voice.

"Yours?" was all he said.

By now the toddler had wrapped himself around Marie's leg and was watching the big man with wide-eyed curiosity.

Marie nodded affirmatively and braced herself for what she knew was coming next.

"And mine?"

Of course the question was practically rhetorical. The boy looked about two years old, but Logan didn't need to do the math – the eyes were a dead giveaway. His night with Marie had produced a very tangible souvenir. The next words out of Marie's mouth stunned a normally unshockable Logan.

"Charles thinks he's his," she said. Then added as explanation, "Invitro."

"Then you better make sure no one ever sees us standing next to each other," Logan replied, "or you're gonna have a whole lot of explaining to do."

The look that swept over Marie's face indicated she hadn't ever contemplated that particular dilemma. But then why would she? After all, what were the odds that her one-night stand would re-enter her life?

Something she'd just said struck him oddly. Invitro.

"Did you use me?" Logan asked tightly, his voice tinged with emotion.

Marie's lower lip trembled and with tear-filled eyes and a hitch in her voice she quietly replied, "I'm sorry."

Enough people had used him over the years and he'd learned to block out any feelings about that – but this hurt. The adorable tyke wasn't the accidental result of two people coming together for one unplanned, but magical night – he'd been the goal all along.

Logan turned and began to walk away. He desperately needed a drink.

"Logan."

Taking a deep breath, he kept going.

Logan found the kitchen and made a beeline for the refrigerator.

"Got any beer?" he asked the young blond boy sitting at the table eating ice cream directly from the carton.

"This is a school," the boy replied with a '_don't you know that, dumbass?' _tone.

"So that's a 'no'?"

"Try Harry's Hideaway," he suggested.

"What's that Cyclops' secret stash?"

"No, it's a bar in town." Then looking Logan up and down he added, "It's a real dive. Probably just your kinda place."

"Topless bartenders?"

"Trust me, you don't wanna see Harry without his shirt. Or his wife without one, for that matter," the boy said with a shudder.

"Thanks for the tip, kiddo," Logan said and then headed off to the garage.

A while later Logan was planted on a stool at Harry's attempting to dull the pain with the strongest substance the bar offered. It wasn't working. Damn healing factor – it was as much a curse as it was a blessing.

He'd just tipped back his countless shot when a familiar scent tickled his nose.

"Where's your bodyguard?" he asked Kitty.

"Probably booby-trapping your bedroom," she replied with a grin as she settled herself onto the stool next to his.

Logan's mouth creased into a knowing smirk.

"Are you old enough to be in here?"

"Do you really care?"

"Gotta hunch Cyclops wouldn't bail my ass out of jail if I led you astray."

Flicking her driver's license on the bar, she told the bartender, "Amaretto – neat."

"So, whose bad habit are you?"

"I could be yours," she offered, stroking her fingers over the back of his hand.

"Don't you have a thing for the Boy Scout?"

"Scott? What makes you think that?"

"Everyone else does," Logan mumbled.

The bartender had placed the Amaretto in front of Kitty and she covered the urge to laugh by taking a dainty sip. "Marie had a one-night stand with him a year ago. Not exactly the stuff of romance novels."

Apparently Kitty not only knew Rogue's real name, but also about her affair with Scott. Logan wondered if she was simply a gossip or Mrs. Xavier had willingly shared secrets with his potential bedmate.

"You two close friends?"

"We know where the other one has the bodies buried, so to speak."

Deciding to test that, Logan tried to sound casual when he said, "Considering she already told me her son was conceived through invitro, I guess that's not much of a secret."

"No, it's not. But the truth is."

Logan felt his heart skip a beat.

"I'm her best friend. She tells me everything. Scott. You." Kitty paused to let that sink in. "She told me about the handsome stranger she spent the night with," she continued, then reaching out her hand she brushed it over his whiskered cheek, "From her description, I knew you were him as soon as you opened the door of that motel room."

"So that's why you gasped. And I thought you were just overwhelmed by my bod," Logan said with a smile.

"Well, that too," Kitty answered as she ran a fingernail over the skin exposed by the three undone buttons of his shirt.

"So who else knows Marie's hubby ain't actually the kid's father?" he asked, steering the conversation back to Marie and his son.

"Nobody," she huffed, "Look, Logan, you have two choices when it comes to how you wanna spend your night – talking about Marie or fucking me. Now, which is it?"

Logan reached around, tugged his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans, pulled out enough money to cover their tab and pushed a condom over to Kitty.

"One?" she joked, "You're not very ambitious."

"I got a whole box back in my room, darlin'," he informed her with a dirty grin.

Back at the mansion their entering Logan's room together was witnessed by the very subject of their conversation at the bar.

**Author's notes:** This fic is based on the *story* that plays out in Heart's song "All I Wanna Do Is Make Love To You".

In the track, singer Ann Wilson sings of a one-night stand with a man, only to reveal later in the song that her intent all along was to use the encounter as a way to become pregnant. The lyrics explain later, when she reunites with the one-time lover, that her child is the result of their tryst and she did it only because the man she really loves is not able to give her children.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Author's note: This chapter contains a brief scene of Charles & Marie as a **couple **– and yes, that's what it means.

No sooner had Logan locked the door than he and Kitty lunged at each other. Their mouths were fused together in an urgent kiss as fumbling hands sought to free themselves from their clothing. Fabric was yanked and buttons were torn from their moorings – tumbling down onto the hardwood floor like bizarre-looking plastic raindrops.

Kitty's hands were eagerly exploring the chest she hadn't been able to get out of her mind ever since he'd opened that motel door. Logan, growing impatient with fiddling with the clasp of her bra, was just about to release part of one claw and simply slice it off of her.

"I want you to fuck me," Kitty told him once they broke for air.

Suddenly struck with a case of déjà vu, he remembered another Xavier Institute resident who'd made the same request.

"Wait," Logan gasped as he untangled himself from her and backed a couple of steps away. "I can't do this."

"Of course you can. We're consenting adults and it's not like this is the rec room."

Logan threw her a quizzical look.

"Scott and Jean. The pool table. Apparently they forgot about the security cameras. The video disc of the incident somehow got returned to Blockbuster in the box marked "The Little Mermaid". The next person to rent that DVD ...well, you get the idea."

"I knew the minute I saw the leather uniforms you people were kinky," Logan said with amusement.

Kitty eliminated the small gap between them and put her arms around his neck, "Why don't you just consider me your 'welcome to the club' representative?"

"Kitty, I've used women all of my remembered life. Do you really wanna be just another insignificant piece of ass?"

"It could lead to something," she answered hopefully.

Logan cast his eyes down and replied, "Maybe, if we weren't here."

Realization suddenly dawned on her and this time she was the one who stepped backward. "Marie."

He nodded in affirmation and raised his eyes back up to her.

"Look around you, Logan. All of this – it all belongs to her as well as Charles. No offense, but do you honestly think she's going to give it all up for you?"

"I may not have Chuck's money, but I've got things to offer."

"Like what? While I'm sure what you've got between your legs is very impressive, it's not exactly valuable unless you're planning a career in porn. Or maybe you could make a few bucks as a sperm donor," she said, then added, "Oh wait, you've already done that."

"Way to make my dick deflate."

Embarrassed by her sarcastic remark, she quickly countered, "I'm sorry."

"People have been taking swipes at me my whole life, I should be used to it by now," he replied sorrowfully.

Kitty stepped closer to him and gingerly put her arms around him. Instead of pulling back as she'd expected, he sank into the embrace and even reciprocated the hug.

"I really need a friend," he said, his voice choked with raw emotion.

"You have one," she replied softly and kissed him tenderly on the cheek.

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and then stroking his thumb down the side of her face, he told her, "If it's any consolation to your ego, I really want you in my bed tonight."

"But you don't want Marie to think you're a callous bed-hopping jerk so you're gonna behave yourself," she finished for him, then asked, "Is that your plan?"

"I didn't say it was a good plan," he said with a smirk.

"On the contrary, I have no doubt you could charm the panties right off of her. Just don't get your hopes up that you'd ever be more than a quickie in the linen closet."

Noticing the look of contemplation on Logan's face, she added, "Of course, if Scott ever caught you with your 'hand in the cookie jar'."

"Considering the skeleton he's hiding in his own closet where Marie's concerned, I ain't worried about the Boy Scout ratting me out."

"Good point."

"I think I love her, Kitty."

"You don't even know her. You just love the idea of her," she countered gently.

When Logan didn't answer, she said, "Well, I better be going."

"Kitty, have you ever … you know … with Scott?" Logan asked.

"Only when I close my eyes," she replied with a playful smile. "Look, Scott may have a starring role in a lot of the fantasies around here, but he hasn't actually worked his way through the roster. Apart from his one lapse with Marie, he's been faithful to Jean."

"And what about Jean?"

"Considering a Plan B?"

"Funny."

"Well, she was a bit jealous when Marie married Charles, but I don't think that was sex-related," then she added with a grimace, "At least I hope not."

"Do you think they … " Logan trailed off.

Kitty had to stifle the temptation to laugh out loud at Logan's curiosity about Charles' ability to be a proper husband.

"The wheelchair isn't because he's just too lazy to walk," she replied deciding to playfully torture him a tad longer by not giving him a straightforward answer.

Logan rose to the bait. "Nothing works down there?" he asked pointing to his own crotch.

This time she couldn't stop the giggle from escaping. "There's no way that Charles could," she raised her pointer finger in an upward motion, "*rise* to the occasion without a penile implant."

"If I were him, and she was my wife, I'd get adamantium injected into my dick," he replied bluntly.

At that pronouncement Kitty burst out laughing, picked up her discarded top and then headed for the door. Logan didn't attempt to stop her because by this point the conversation had taken too weird of a turn for any kind of recovery. After she'd exited and closed the door behind her, he scrubbed his hand over his face in resignation and headed for the bathroom. A few minutes later he stood under the soothing spray of the rainfall showerhead trying to imagine any one of the women he'd met in recent months as he ran his hand up and down his length, but they all kept dissolving into Marie. Finally, he gave up trying to find a suitable substitute and allowed himself to fantasize about the one he really wanted. He revisited their one night together – a night unlike anything he'd ever experienced before, or been able to recapture with anyone else since. He also recalled his initial feelings of disappointment, hurt and then anger after waking up alone – and how he'd taken it out on the next few women who'd shared his bed. Those memories of rough, emotionally detached sex eclipsed the images of him and Marie making love and Logan found that he was unable to take himself over the edge. In frustration he turned the temperature control to the coldest setting and stood there until he began to shiver.

Meanwhile in the Xavier's suite Marie was attending to her husband. When she'd gained control of her mutation, one of the first things she'd done was take a physical therapy course so that she could administer his daily massage. While her touch had always been soothing it was never sensual – but tonight her fingers danced across his back and down his legs in a way that was less of a kneading action and more like a caress. Charles didn't give it too much thought, assuming she'd merely implemented a different technique – until she leaned down and planted a soft kiss between his shoulder blades. He immediately rolled over onto his back and flashed his wife a questioning look. The first kiss had certainly taken him by surprise and the second one she proceeded to drop onto his mouth confused him, but straddling his thighs and peeling off her nightgown rendered him utterly bewildered.

"Marie?" he stammered even as his eyes automatically went to her bare breasts. Perfect breasts he noted. Even though a marriage certificate may have given him rights to think of Marie sexually, he never had. Their relationship had always been one of companionship – something that hadn't changed even after they'd decided to add a child to their unusual family. He didn't understand why she was suddenly altering the dynamic of their arrangement.

"Touch me," she instructed – and then, not waiting for him to respond, she took his hands and placed them on her breasts.

Charles stroked his thumbs over her nipples before abruptly pulling his hands back. Marie was always careful to shield her thoughts around him, so he was unprepared that she was projecting. Although the thoughts and images were mere flashes and he couldn't make out anything specific, he was keenly aware that he was not the reason she was turned on.

"Marie, I think you need to go to your own room," he said calmly.

If he thought his apparent rejection would diminish her inexplicable ardor, he was wrong.

"You and I both know that two people can pleasure each other even if penetration isn't possible, " she stated as she shifted onto her knees and hooked her fingers into the band of her panties.

Charles grabbed a hold of one of her wrists, stopping her from going any further. To say the moment was awkward was an understatement. A small voice calling out from the other room requesting a glass of water saved both of them from further embarrassment. Marie shimmied back into her nightgown and went to take care of Chance. Charles released the breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding. Not wishing to delve into this tonight, he turned off the bedside light and hunkered down under the covers hoping that Marie would take the hint when she returned.

After attending to her son's needs Marie noticed Charles' room was cloaked in darkness, so with a resigned sigh she headed for her own room. She couldn't blame Charles for his reaction to her precipitous behavior and she didn't look forward to the inevitable discussion on the matter.

Once ensconced in her own bed, knowing that when Charles slept he wasn't able to pick up projections, Marie figured it was safe to attempt to bring herself physical release. She tried conjuring up her safe fantasy. Scott. The one night she'd spent with him had managed to provide her with enough material to occasionally replace her Logan fantasies. That was until he'd shown up in the foyer of her home. As she explored herself, Scott quickly dissolved into Logan. She was teetering on the brink, so close to taking herself over the edge, when the image of Logan and Kitty entering his room together – obviously heading for bed – flashed into her head and destroyed the moment. Here she was pretending that Logan was making love to her while right now Kitty was actually experiencing the real thing. And Kitty, being currently unattached, would no doubt get to enjoy more than just one encounter with him.

Even though she'd longed for her own real relationship, Marie had never been jealous of the various couplings that had sprung up over the years. She'd been pleased for her friends when they'd found happiness in the arms of one of the many hunky men who lived at the mansion. She should be happy for Kitty she chided herself. It wasn't working – and the pint of Godiva chocolate ice cream tucked in the back of the freezer was calling to her – so she kicked off the covers and headed downstairs – deciding to surrender to that temptation instead.

She walked into the kitchen and found Logan sitting at the table nursing a Molson's.

"I thought you'd be … " she trailed off unable to complete the sentence, realizing that saying _'banging Kitty'_ would sound crass.

"What?" Logan pressed.

"Well," Marie hesitated, "it's just that I saw you and Kitty going into your room and …"

"And you figured I'd still be up there screwing her into my mattress," he finished for her.

"I wouldn't have put it quite like that."

Logan was tempted to say, _"Of course you wouldn't, princess." _But then he remembered he was aiming to make a good impression and insulting her would defeat that purpose. So instead, with a grin, he said, "I'll be the first person to sign up for Storm's etiquette class once it's given the green light."

It worked because Marie favored him with a smile that reached all the way to her eyes.

"Kitty and I are just friends," he continued, "Ya know, in case you were wondering."

She nodded in acknowledgement of that declaration and replied, "But remember, she was my best friend first – so I get dibs if ever we're both having a crisis at the same time."

"Deal. Just so long as you don't suggest Scott as my back-up pal."

Marie didn't wish to encourage Logan's antagonism towards Scott – even if it was done in jest, so she told him gently but firmly, "You're not required to like Scott, but you do need to respect him as our team leader."

Logan was many things, but completely oblivious to the obvious wasn't one of them, so he recognized when he was getting too close to crossing a line and his toes were right on the edge of this particular one. He'd have to watch his mouth around the people who had Scott on a pedestal.

"I'll try," he offered, not wanting to completely acquiesce.

"Promise?"

"Yeah, I promise."

There was an awkward silence that in actuality probably only lasted for a few moments, but seemed like an eternity to both occupants of the kitchen. The lapse in conversation gave them both time to notice what the other one was wearing – Marie in her body-skimming emerald nightgown and Logan in just a pair of faded jeans and no shirt. But while both of them were turned on, only one had the advantage of being able to smell the other's arousal.

"Marie," was all Logan managed to get out before bolting out of his chair and lunging for her.

"Oh God," Marie cried out as lifted her onto the table and pushed up her nightgown. Her panties were ripped from her body and tossed onto the floor. Divesting himself of his jeans, he was naked and on top of her in mere seconds. She splayed her legs cooperatively and he entered her in one powerful thrust. As he buried his face against her throat she raised her hips and he pushed in so that he was embedded to the hilt. She raked her fingers through his hair and wrapped her legs around his hips as he began pumping. His lips burned a trail of heated kisses from her neck to her mouth, which he claimed hungrily. She responded with equal enthusiasm – the reality of kissing him even better than the memories she'd clung to.

They made love with an intensity that surpassed their first time together - three years of aching want and unquenched desire needing to be satiated. The heat from Logan's skin seemed to set her own ablaze and Marie pondered if she'd be covered in telltale scorch marks in the morning. By the time she climaxed she thought she'd spontaneously combust. Logan's own release a moment later was just as intense. Slipping out of her, he rolled to his side so as not to crush her with his weight and pulled her limp body tightly against his. He enveloped her in his arms; his hands splayed across her back as she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face against the solid wall of his chest.

He smelled the tears before he heard the muffled sob. Not knowing exactly why she was crying – guilt, or possibly pain, as he hadn't been gentle, being his initial guesses – never even considering joy as a possibility – he was unsure how to respond. At a loss for the appropriate words, he simply caressed her in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

"I've missed you so much," Marie finally managed to choke out.

Logan was flooded with both relief and elation. He tilted her face up to his, confessing, "I've missed you too." Before kissing her with a tenderness that conveyed more emotion than anything he could've expressed verbally.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Logan wondered if Marie regretted their kitchen dalliance because for the next few days she seemed to be conspicuously avoiding him. A couple of times he'd casually inquired about her whereabouts and, aware of the telepaths in the house, tried not to project his disappointment when told that she was busy.

He occupied himself by trying to put together an actual self-defense course blueprint – because as Scott sarcastically told him, "You can't just incite a brawl and call it a lesson plan." The first thing Logan scribbled down was a note to himself to use Scott as his first demonstration volunteer. When Kitty stopped by Logan's assigned classroom and saw a visored stick figure swinging from a hangman's noose drawn next to Scott's name, she informed him of Scott's mastery of the highest level in the Danger Room.

"Probably cheated," he muttered.

"Scott's a very eloquent fighter," Kitty noted, the admiration for her team leader plainly evident.

"I'm sure he's a regular **Baryshnikov in a simulated battle, but put him on the street with a thug who's got no manners and I bet he'd get his candy ass kicked." **

**"Scott isn't the prep school graduate you apparently think he is. Charles found him living on the streets. Trust me, he's quite capable of doing some ass kicking of his own," she informed him and then added, "Isn't 'never underestimate your opponent' the first rule of combat?" **

**"Point taken." **

**Kitty just smiled, said goodbye and left him to ponder that particular information. **

**Logan wasn't sure if Marie's perceived avoidance was annoying him and he wanted to confront her or he was simply horny and unwilling to seek 'exercise' elsewhere, but after a week of no contact he decided to seek her out. **

**From perfunctory investigation he'd learned that she often spent time at a cabin by the lake that served as her art studio. Noting that Mrs. Anderson had taken Chance to Baby Gym and Charles was engaged in a chess match with Jean, Logan slipped out of the house and headed for the lake. **

**Without bothering to knock, he entered the cabin to find Marie in what appeared to be thoughtful contemplation – the tip of a paintbrush handle being tapped against her pursed lips – in front of a canvas that contained an abstract design. **

**Logan cleared his throat – and tamped down the urge to charge across the room and jump her.**

**"Hey," she said calmly.**

**"Hey," he replied and mentally chided himself for not being able to come up with anything better than parroting her. **

**"In case you're wondering, I have been avoiding you."**

**"Are you sure you're not a telepath?" he asked with a smile.**

**"No, I'm just schooled in the obvious."**

**"Then you should know how I obviously feel about you," Logan stated simply, "And how I thought you felt about me."**

**"How I feel about you scares the hell out of me," Marie said with a wistful sigh.**

**"Why?"**

**"Because my life was …" She wrinkled her brow as she searched for the best descriptive word when Logan interrupted her.**

**"Dull."**

**"Uncomplicated."**

**"Didn't mean to mess up your apparently perfect life," he said indignantly and turned to walk out.**

**"Logan," was all she had to say to bring him to a halt. He loved the way she spoke his name and even more so when she moaned it. **

**"What do you want from me, Marie?" he inquired, his voiced tinged with frustration, as he turned around to face her, knowing he'd grant her just about any favor that she asked of him. **

**"I want you to make love to me," she answered softly – echoing the request she'd made on that blustery October night. **

**That certainly wasn't what Logan had expected to hear, but just as he couldn't refuse her then, he couldn't deny her now. **

**In two strides he was across the room and had her in his arms. **

**"I love you so much," she confessed, with a catch in her throat, as his mouth descended on hers. **

**"Love you too," he murmured against her lips. **

**Unlike the encounter in the kitchen, which was raw and urgent, this time they made love slowly – with tender kisses and loving caresses. The world outside the sun-dappled studio was momentarily forgotten as they focused on one another. **

**Later, as she slept tucked under his arm with her head on his chest, Logan thought he was going to be the one who cried this time. A few moments later he drifted off himself, trying not to think too much about how badly this was probably all going to end. **

**The sun was beginning to fade when Marie was jarred awake by a loud noise in her head. It was Jean – attempting to communicate with her telepathically, except she hadn't quite mastered the technique and it tended to come across as yelling.**

**"_Jean, turn down the volume,"_**** Marie requested mentally. **

**"_Sorry," _****Jean replied, taking it down only a decibel or two in her attempt to *whisper*, ****_"Just wanted to tell you that Charles is wondering where you are. So you might want to climb off of Logan and put some clothes on."_**

**Even psychically she managed to sound smug. **

**Marie bolted upright with a start. Jean knew! Charles' closest confidante, his surrogate daughter – and the woman who was unequivocally jealous of her and considered her the other woman in his life … knew. **

**Well, there was only one way that Jean could've found out – and that was because she'd obviously been spying telepathically. She'd always been suspicious – and had done little to hide her contempt of the young woman now bearing the Xavier name. **

**Refusing to let Jean think that she'd succeeded in intimidating her, Marie shot back, ****_"Did you enjoy the show, Jean? For Scott's sake, I hope you learned a thing or two." _**

**"Everything okay?" a still drowsy Logan asked.**

**"Fine," she replied a bit shakily, "I've gotta go. Mrs. Anderson is already on overtime by now."**

**And with that she jumped up, dressed hastily and was heading out of the door in mere moments. **

**"What – no goodbye kiss?" Logan asked jokingly – but the door had already closed.**

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

"I'm starting to feel a little used… again," he called out to the empty room.

Marie charged into the house – frantic to intercept Jean before she could expose her to Charles.

Dashing past his secretary's desk she barreled into Charles' office – only to discover that he was alone.

"Something on fire?" he inquired.

"What?" Marie replied as she skidded to a halt in front of the large desk. Recovering quickly she covered by saying, "I came in here to drag you out of this office. It's way past normal office hours – even Mildred's gone home. So put down that pen, mister, and call it a day."

"Very well," Charles said, "I was starting to get a headache trying to deal with the construction problems with the new wing."

"Is everything okay?"

"Nothing that can't be solved by throwing a lot of money at it."

At that moment Chance came charging into the office – followed by a very winded Mrs. Anderson.

"Mommy!" he squealed as he wrapped himself around his mother's legs.

"Hey, squirt," she said as she lifted him up and perched him on her hip.

He wriggled out of her grasp, slid down and then ran over and hopped up onto Charles' lap.

"Sorry, it's my fault he's a little hyper," Mrs. Anderson wheezed, "I let him have too much sugar today."

"That's okay, we'll take it from here," Charles told her.

"Yes – thank you, Mrs. Anderson," Marie added, "Have a good evening."

"Good night," the nanny said and hastily retreated. She loved the little boy, but his energy level tended to drain hers.

"I should give Chance his bath."

"The cook is serving spaghetti tonight – you might want to wait until after dinner," Charles suggested as he ruffled the toddler's hair.

"Good idea."

In another part of the mansion Scott and Jean were in the midst of an argument. He was upset that she'd used her gift to spy on Marie – while she maintained that she was only doing it to protect Charles.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't expose that …tramp," Jean challenged.

"Because it would break Charles' heart," Scott replied.

"Look," he continued, "I'm not opposed to anything that would get Wolverine's hairy ass kicked to the curb – but we've also got Chance to think about. You'd not only be destroying Charles' world, but that baby's as well."

"Well then, what do you suggest we do? They can't be allowed to continue playing Charles for a fool."

Tapping the side of his head Scott asked, "Did it ever occur to you that he already knows?"

Jean shook her head. "You know how he feels about reading someone's thoughts without their permission. So even if he were suspicious, I doubt he'd do that. At least one of them would've had to have been projecting – and neither of them have, or I would've *heard*."

"Just do everyone a favor, Jean, and don't go running to Charles with this. Let me talk to her."

"Very well," she acquiesced, "You have until the end of the week to come up with a solution – or I'll deal with this my way." It was only partially an empty threat – because she didn't want to be the one to deal such a devastating blow to Charles, but would if it became absolutely necessary.

Scott's relief at this deferment quickly dissipated with the realization that he didn't have a clue how to solve this dilemma if Marie refused to give up her lover.

The next few days proved to be stressful for several of the mansion's residents.

Jean was actually nervous at the prospect of having to tell Charles about Marie's betrayal, Scott was worried that she'd lose patience and tell him before the one-week deadline they'd agreed to – and Marie was jittery waiting for the whole thing to implode.

The situation became even tenser after Charles asked Logan to act as Marie's bodyguard and accompany her to San Francisco – where she'd be representing the Xavier Institute at a conference.

"Is his telepathy out of whack, or what?" Jean asked incredulously upon hearing about Logan's new assignment.

"He **had** to have picked up something by now," Scott replied, "I'm not a telepath and even I've noticed they've been acting strangely in the last day or so."

"I should talk to him – do a little fishing."

"No – don't," he implored, "because you're lousy at subterfuge."

"Is this about your surprise birthday party that wasn't such a surprise? Because that wasn't my fault, Mr. Nosy Pants."

"Honey, you're a great doctor and a kick-ass superhero – but you're not 007 Spy material."

"Fine," she reluctantly conceded, "I won't attempt to find out if he's suspicious."

Marie was in her room scanning her closet for outfits for the conference – the bed was already littered with clothes and shoes.

Logan entered without bothering to knock.

"If you're gonna pack something sexy – and I hope you do – you better hide it between a couple of pairs of granny panties," he suggested.

"Logan!"

"What?" he asked with feigned surprise.

"Oh stop," Marie admonished with a small smile.

Logan scratched his chin in thoughtful contemplation, "As I recall, you were telling me not to stop …"

"Don't be so damn proud of yourself," she interrupted.

"Well, I am the best at what I do," he replied with a naughty grin.

"Which is irritating the shit outta me," Scott said as he walked into the room.

"Damnit, doesn't **anyone** knock?" Marie asked, "What if I was indecent?"

Logan scowled at the big grin that flashed across Scott's face. He didn't need to be psychic to know exactly what image the X-Men leader had just conjured up.

Quickly regaining his composure – because that's one of the things that Scott did best – he said, "Charles wants to discuss some of the topic points for the conference."

"Sure. Tell him I'll be right down," Marie replied, "So – if you'll both excuse me."

The two men bumped into each other in their less than graceful retreat from the room.

An hour later Charles and Marie were winding down their discussion of the subjects that needed to be addressed at the conference when Logan strode into the office.

"Thanks, Mildred, that should do it," Charles said, dismissing his secretary who'd been taking notes.

She nodded in acknowledgement, got up and walked out – closing the door behind her.

"Logan and I need to finalize some security details and logistics," Charles informed Marie as Logan dropped into the leather chair next to hers.

"I'm guessing that five minutes into this and my eyes are going to glaze over, right?" she asked.

"Too much planning is bullshit," Logan announced, "Anyone even thinks of pulling a stunt and they're gonna get gutted. That's my security plan."

"Well, humor me," Charles requested with a sigh.

He then went on to outline a plan that neither of the room's other two occupants had anticipated.

The next day Jean stood on the balcony overlooking the west lawn watching the smaller of the two Blackbirds lift off into the morning sky. The situation with Logan and Marie had still not been resolved and she was a dizzying combination of frustrated, mad and heartbroken. Scott wanted her to wait and give Marie more time to confess to Charles, but she felt that one of them would slip and he'd find out anyway.

Little did she know that just a mere few hours later, something would happen that would make it all irrelevant anyway.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Scott was in the Danger Room's control booth supervising an exercise when the alarm on the X-Jet's monitoring system interrupted the relative quietness of the room. He immediately slid his chair over to the jet's tech board to determine exactly what had set off the warning.

According to the data, Blackbird 2 was no longer in the air – and not because it had landed in San Francisco. The flight path ended abruptly somewhere over the Bitterroot Range in the Rocky Mountains.

But what made Scott's own heart literally skip a few beats was the life support readout showed three flat-lines instead of the heartbeat blips that should've been displayed. Unless the system was experiencing a major glitch, all three occupants of the jet – Logan, Marie and Chance – were dead.

"Nooooo!" He wailed – loud enough for the trainees in the DR to hear.

Bobby was the first to run into the room. "What's up, Cyke?" he asked breathlessly – winded from the workout in the holographic arena.

"Our scores weren't that bad," Piotr maintained as he tromped in – followed closely by Remy, Kitty and Jubilee.

Scott didn't bother to answer; he simply dashed right past them and out of the booth.

"Did all of our mutations just become the gift of invisibility, or was he being rude?" Kitty asked, wondering if Storm's proposed etiquette class was beginning to look like a useful idea after all.

"Ah who cares if Captain Uptight's missed an etiquette lesson," Jubilee said as if reading Kitty's mind. "The important issue here is that the log is unsupervised. Time to erase some shitty scores."

Blowing right past Mildred, Scott charged straight into Charles' office. Noting the ashen appearance of the man he considered a surrogate father, he surmised that his information wasn't news to him.

"Charles," he said as he dropped down beside the wheelchair and placed his hand over Xavier's, "tell me what I can do for you."

Just then Jean came running into the office, having *heard* Charles' anguished mental scream.

"Oh my God, what's happened?" she asked fearfully.

"It's the jet," Scott informed her as he rose from his kneeling position, "It's gone down."

The look on both of the men's faces answered what would've been Jean's next question.

"No," was all she was able to choke out.

"I should've insisted on being the pilot," Scott said, "Rogue hadn't logged enough airtime on the Blackbird to solo. I should've gone with them." Why had he allowed Charles to coerce him into letting them go without him? Whatever had happened over those mountains, Marie wasn't experienced enough to handle it – and now they were all gone.

"You don't know if it would've made any difference," Charles noted quietly.

The founder of the X-Men may have been absolving him of the blame, but as it was his tendency to reassess even the most trivial detail of every mission, Scott knew he'd be analyzing and second-guessing himself over this one for a long time.

"I'm so sorry, Charles," Jean said solemnly as she bent to give him a hug.

"Thank you both for your concern," he replied sincerely, "but I just need to be alone right now."

Scott shook his head at Jean – to indicate that she shouldn't try and argue with him.

"Okay," she conceded, "But if you need us …"

"Yes – thank you," he said dismissively and turned to gaze out of the window, effectively ending any further discussion.

Respecting his wishes, they reluctantly retreated from the office.

The investigation by the**National****Transportation****Safety****Board**concluded that the jet had suddenly lost altitude and slammed into Cherry Peak in the Coeur d'Alène Mountains of the Rockies. The impact into the 7,352 foot mountain had turned the high-tech jet into nothing more than a few scraps of molten metal scattered over a five-mile radius. From the evidence collected at the scene, it was apparent that even Logan's healing factor had been overwhelmed and he hadn't survived either.

Charles requested that Mildred pack all of Marie and Chance's things and ship them to a P.O. Box in Canada where they'd be retrieved by a friend who'd dispurse them to a couple of charities. Logan's meager belongings were donated to a local homeless shelter. Within a week it was as if none of them had ever existed.

Although Jean hadn't cared for Marie, she was still worried about Charles' grieving process.

"I mean, come on," she said to Scott, "You've gotta admit it's not normal. It's like they were never here."

"As far as Logan's concerned, that works for me," he replied, "But I know what you mean – it is kinda … disrespectful."

"Do you think he knew about their affair, and that's why he can't mourn her?" She theorized. Marie may have been able to shield her thoughts from someone who was still learning to hone her gift, but had she successfully been able to avoid slipping around Charles' more powerful mutation? Had he accidentally discovered his wife's duplicity as Jean had feared – and the betrayal had cut so deep that he'd shut down emotionally.

"Well, that would explain his attitude toward Rogue," Scott replied, "But he loved that baby – and he hasn't even shed a tear for him. Something's definitely not right."

"I don't know how to help him," Jean lamented – her heart breaking for the 'father' she adored.

"We just have to be patient – and when he's ready, we'll be there for him."

Jean's theory was partially correct – Charles had discovered Marie's secret, but it was long before Logan joined the team. Nearly three years earlier, to be precise.

Despite Hank's promise to the young Mrs. Xavier that he would surpress the results of Charles' tests, the Professor had managed to learn the truth about his ability (or lack thereof) to produce biological off-spring. So when Marie miracously wound up pregnant he did a little unethical probing, which was a challenge as she was quite adept at blocking him – but with persistence eventually he learned the shocking truth. For appearances sake, he allowed the deception to remain concealed. He never even let Marie be aware that he knew. Once Chance was born, and he'd fallen in love with the little guy, keeping his own secret had become easier.

Because of Logan's nomadic lifestyle, it took the private detective Charles had hired several years to track down Marie's one-night stand.

As expected, the Wolverine took the bait – Charles had made sure the job offer was too tempting to refuse. It would've taken Logan months of pummeling rednecks in a metal cage to earn what Xavier was offering him per week. It was almost too easy.

Marie and Logan's reunion in the foyer of the mansion that first day was like watching a telenova play out.

But revenge was not actually Charles' motive for setting these events into motion. He really did adore Marie and appreciated the light she'd brought into his life. However, he couldn't let her continue to sacrifice her own ultimate happiness. He wasn't that selfish. Which is why he came up with _The Plan_. That way Marie would have her freedom, and he'd be the grieving widower instead of the cuckolded husband.

**One Year Later** ~

The 6,315 population of Peace River, Alberta had welcomed three new residents only a year earlier – and now the Howlett family was about to add one more to the local census.

Charlotte Howlett entered the world weighing a healthy 8lbs 5oz – much to the delight of her parents James and Marie and big brother Chase. (Who sometimes told people that his name was Chance – but his parents explained that was simply because whenever he wanted a cookie before dinner he was told, "No chance.")

"We have to call Charles and let him know his namesake has arrived," Marie told Logan as soon as they were alone.

"Got the 'Batphone' right here," Logan said as he pulled out the special phone they used to communicate with Charles.

Marie tentatively dialed the number of Charles' private line.

"Hello, Marie," he answered.

She told him about Charlotte and caught him up on all the other latest news.

At the end of the conversation she reverently said, "Thank you, Charles … for everything."

The everything Marie alluded to included staging their 'deaths', providing them with new identities and setting up a trust fund so they'd be financially solvent. Logan had tried to refuse the monetary assistance, but Charles had insisted – telling him to put aside his pride and consider Marie and Chance's security.

With just a hint of sadness in his voice, Charles replied, "For a while you made an old man very happy – and you deserve to have true love, Marie. I love you and Chance enough to let you go."

And with that, Charles ended the call and turned to look out the window over the vast estate that would one day pass down to the Summers family.

THE END

NOTE: .org/wiki/Coeur_d%27Alene_Mountains

.org/wiki/Peace_River,_Alberta


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